


Mutual Misery V

by SidneyJane



Series: Mutual Misery [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunkenness, Friendship, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts, M/M, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 18:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidneyJane/pseuds/SidneyJane
Summary: Harry and Malfoy go to the Three Broomsticks and have a little bit too much to drink for a Thursday night.





	Mutual Misery V

**Author's Note:**

> Part V of Mutual Misery! 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a Kudos or a comment - I'd love to hear your feedback! <3

The Three Broomsticks was fairly quiet, as Harry had suspected. That didn’t stop the patrons from turning to stare at Harry and Malfoy though. The stares lasted for mere seconds before people turned back to what they were doing. The Three Brooms hadn’t changed at all. The oak beamed aisled roof still gave the building a warm, welcoming atmosphere that always made Harry feel at home. Walking back here made Harry feel like he had never left; like he could walk over to what had been his regular table and see Ron and Hermione pouring over N.E.W.Ts revision or Hagrid drinking butterbeer with the professors. Alas, that was not the case. Neville and Hannah were behind the bar now, Neville had his hand around Hannah’s waist while she arranged the glasses on the side - the very picture of domesticity and happiness.

“Harry!” Hannah smiled from behind the bar, “There’s a small room upstairs that you two can use, if you want?” Neville must have mentioned that they’d like to be away from crowds if possible. Harry nodded to her, and Malfoy headed up the stairs, eyes following him as he did.

They found the room with ease, there were some comfy looking armchairs in front of a huge stone fireplace which took up most of the room. It was stiflingly warm in here compared to being outside. Harry found the heat calming, it would eventually lull him.

“Shall I get us some drinks, Potter?” Malfoy asked, whipping off his charmed snake cloak in one swift movement.

“Firewhiskey, please.”

Harry sat in the larger of the two chairs, letting the soft cushions envelop him for a bit. His heart was racing, he was petrified that he would be harassed by people, or that people would surround him in an instant. He concentrated his eyes on the stags head above the fireplace and wondered to himself if he thought that it was offensive. Did it upset him that that was the mortal version of his patronus? Of his dad? Was it something that he should feel something about? He wasn’t sure. Malfoy returned with a tray, glasses of firewhiskey filled it, as well as two glasses of butterbeer. His heart calmed a bit when Malfoy entered the room, he had become something of a reassuring presence for Harry.

“Err,” Harry eyed the glasses cautiously, “I didn’t realise it was _that_ kind of night?” He asked Malfoy, and eyed him suspiciously.

Malfoy smiled, “Hannah wouldn’t let me bring just two glasses up,” he chuckled to himself, “Must have an agenda of some sort.” He put the tray on the table in the middle of the chairs, and pulled a red and gold cushion off the remaining armchair. He looked at it, smiled, and threw it at Harry who caught it and sat with it on his lap.

He sat in the chair and looked, annoyed, at the fireplace. He grimaced and shed yet another layer, this time taking off his smart suit jacket, and loosening his tie slightly, “Merlin it’s hot in here.” he complained.

“I like it,” Harry said, his voice already sleepy, “It reminds me of the Gryffindor common room,” he leant forwards and picked up a glass of firewhiskey, “maybe that’s why you don’t like it all that much - you’re used to the cold dungeons.” He mirrored Malfoys remark from earlier and smiled.

“Neville seems to be okay,” Malfoy remarked, and Harry looked at him questioningly, “I just mean that he doesn’t seem to have any issues with the war like we do.”

Harry nodded, “He’s got Hannah though. He seems to have been able to move on. It’s the same with Ron and Hermione: they’re both just fine. I just seem to be the only one that can’t get over it all.”

Malfoy leaned forwards in his chair, looking at Harry intensely, “You were uniquely affected though, you were _raised_ to kill Voldemort,” Harry’s eyes shot up, “You were not meant to have a normal life but nobody told you that. Of course that’s going to leave something behind.”

Harry sat and let Malfoy’s words sink in, “That’s not so dissimilar to you.” he said quietly.

Draco’s grey eyes turned hard, his jaw clenched and he wrung his hands in front of him, “I guess.”

Harry wondered if he’d overstepped the mark by talking about Malfoy’s life but carried on anyway, “You didn’t have much of a choice, Malfoy, just like me. I could never be just Harry. There was always a larger purpose over me that I had no control over.”

Malfoy nodded slowly, “Can I ask a favour?” He asked, his voice small, “If that’s okay?”

Harry sipped his drink and nodded, “Sure.”

“Can you not call me Malfoy?” His voice was still small, timid.

Harry hadn’t even thought that he would not want ‘Malfoy’ hanging around him. It tended to have negative connotations these days, “Of course, sorry… Draco.”

Draco seemed to relax a bit more, though he was still uncomfortable with the heat in the room. He took his tie off completely and undid a button or two on his crisp white shirt. He finally took a drink from the tray and cleared half the glass in one. They sat in silence for a little bit working their way through the firewhiskey. Every now and again, Harry felt Draco’s eyes on him – either in a quick glance, or a longer stare. It unsettled him slightly. Was Draco looking at him because he’s ‘Harry Potter’, or because he’s a friend?

When Draco was on his third glass - Harry still only just on his second - he smiled wistfully, “Whatever happened with you and the Weasley girl?”

Harry sucked air in through his teeth, “It just didn’t work out,” Draco looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “I ended things with her.” Harry drained his glass, the firewhiskey burning his throat in a way that was not at all unpleasant.

“What didn’t work out about it?” Draco asked.

“It just fizzled out for me. It was all so tough at the time. Neither of us could cope with the attention we were getting – the constant stream of reporters and people wanting to see me all the time. We couldn’t go out for a meal or do shopping without being hounded by people. It’s not what we wanted so I left. She’s much better off now. Now she gets hounded about her athletics, not about me and my shit.” Harry explained, eyeing the last glass of firewhiskey on the tray. Draco motioned towards it, implying that Harry should take it.

Draco nodded, “That’s not so dissimilar to what happened to me. God, we’ve both been through it, huh?”

Harry sighed and nodded back, looking glumly into his glass. With no warning, Neville came into the room with a big smile and heaps of energy. He had another tray of drinks in his hand – everything from more firewhiskey to a new cocktail that Hannah was trying out. Draco looked at the tray and smiled to harry: “Maybe it is _that_ kind of night, Potter.” His smile widened as Neville put the tray on the table and conjured a bean bag of sorts.

“Bottoms up lads.” Neville smiled, looking from Harry to Draco.

The night took a more uplifting turn when Neville arrived. They started chatting about anything and everything – predicting Quidditch scores for the World Cup final, making bets on which teacher would arrive still drunk the morning after the match. They even touched on how long they thought it would take Hermione to become the Minister. The drinks flowed, rather too quickly for a Thursday night. They even played drinking games, forgetting their reality for just a night.

***

Harry and Draco walked back to the castle, energised by their night out. Draco had his arm around Harry, supporting the drunk wizard as he walked back to the castle.

“I’m going to re-regret this in the, the erm… what’s the word?” He looked up at Draco, his eyes clouded and a stupid smile on his face.

“The morning?” He grinned down to Harry, taking pity at how drunk he was.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Harry stumbled next to Draco, putting more weight on the wizard than he expected to, “How are you not as drunk as I am?”

“Because you forfeited more of the dares than I did,” Draco grinned, “and because I am refined and used to drinking excessive amounts of liquor.” Sarcasm dripped from him and Harry laughed. Draco? Refined? Sure.

They carried on stumbling like this, bickering and laughing all the way back to Hogwarts with Harry being mostly supported by Draco. As they neared the entrance, Draco looked up to the time – it was 2am. They tread quietly through the halls, silently praying they wouldn’t run into any students while they were in this state. Harry laughed to himself – he’d not snuck into the castle for quite some time, let alone for a fun reason.

Harry and Draco somehow managed to get to Harry’s room, and Draco flopped Harry onto his bed.

“How are you so small and yet _so damned heavy_?” Draco laughed, breathless with effort. He sat next to Harry on the bed and waited for his heart rate to calm a bit.

“Hey… it’s all muscle dear.” Harry slurred sarcastically and sat up. Draco laughed at him, and rolled his eyes slightly. As drunk as he was, he could tell that Draco was more inebriated than he said he was.

Draco looked, bleary eyed, through the arch way to the settee in Harry’s office, “Accio settee,” he laughed, and the seat came flying through the arch to the end of Harry’s bed, “Okay, night Harry.” He said as he climbed onto it and promptly got comfortable, smiling at Harry.

Harry shrugged and stripped, somewhat clumsily, down to his underwear then slid into bed.  

***

Harry woke up terrified. Again. He’d been at the Burrow with an army of death eaters swarming around him and his family – the Weasleys. He could hear Mrs Weasley crying so vividly in his mind, and he hated the sound. He wanted to hold her, tell her that everything was okay now – he was here to help. He noticed something holding him. Something was trying to soothe him. He mustered up the courage to open his eyes and was confronted with a dark mark in his face. He stood up in a flash, his wand automatically at the ready in front of him, ready to fight - as always.

Draco sat on his bed, still in his shirt from the night before with his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. It had only been Malfoy.

“Harry,” he spoke calmly, holding his hands out to show that he didn’t have his wand, “It’s just me. You’re alright.” His face rested peacefully and his eyes, though icy, were sympathetic. It was not a look that Harry was used to seeing on Draco. 

It took a second for Harry to register what had happened – he’d been having yet another nightmare and Draco must have been soothing him. He became supremely conscious of how sweaty and naked he was, and how fast his heart was racing. The adrenaline calmed, and he sat back on his bed with a sigh – not only was he drained from his nightmare, he was also hung over. He dropped his wand on the bedside table with a clatter and ran his hands through his unruly hair.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” He groaned.

Draco put a hand on Harry's back, and Harry noticed that he’d put his sleeves down, “It’s alright. I didn’t think that through properly,” he got up off the bed and filled a goblet with water with a flick of his wand and gave it to Harry, “Here. Are you alright?” he asked.

Harry took the drink and looked up at Draco, his eyes were full of concern and guilt. Harry wished that he hadn’t reacted like that, but was grateful that Draco had been there. He nodded at Draco, “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just exhausted.”

Draco smiled, “Hung over?”

Harry chuckled softly, “Yeah something like that,” he put the now empty cup on the bedside table, “How are you feeling?”

“Unlike you, Potter, I’m just fine.” He remarked, his voice full of that Draco sarcasm and wit.

“Oh, good. That’s exactly what I wanted.” Harry shot Draco a sarcastic look and they both started laughing, their new found camaraderie coming out in full force.

“Right, well. You need to get dressed and I need to shower and change. Shall I meet you in the Hall for breakfast?” Draco smiled, once he had calmed down somewhat.

Harry nodded, and waved his hand towards the archway, showing Draco the way out. He smiled to himself after Draco had gone – even though he felt like he had been run over by Buckbeak he was almost happy for the first time in years.

***


End file.
